


You're my favourite waste of time

by Teatrolley



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Season/Series 03, mentions of sex? lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 03:26:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13515651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teatrolley/pseuds/Teatrolley
Summary: A little over a month after they become officially official, Isak and Even go away for the weekend. It's their first time living alone togetherOr: A cabin trip and fluff





	You're my favourite waste of time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skamz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skamz/gifts).
  * Inspired by [us together, in this life](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13429527) by [skamz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skamz/pseuds/skamz). 



> this is a gift for [skamz](http://archiveofourown.org/users/skamz/pseuds/skamz) because she wrote [the cutest cabin fic in the world](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13429527) where she mentioned that the boys went away on a cabin weekend their first january together and i told her to write it, and she told me to write it, and i told her to write it, and she told me to write it, and i did. hope you enjoy bean!
> 
> title is from the song of the same name
> 
> also is this mostly fluff? yes it's mostly fluff

**Friday**

They take the tram home together for as long as they can.

As they file into it, Isak moves off to the side, where he reaches up to hold onto one of the handles. After Even’s joined him he reaches up, too, holding onto the same handle that Isak is, so they’re practically holding hands, and winks. And when Isak rolls his eyes about it he grins, too.

“What’s the plan?” he asks, then, a minute or so before his stop, and by now their hands are not just touching but intertwined, and by now there’s not a lot of space between them. It always seems to happen like that. “What time is it now?”

Really, Isak doesn’t understand why he can’t just look at his own phone, but it’s endearing, really, the way he always asks, so just like always he fishes his own phone out to check. 

“Fifteen twenty,” he says, and puts it back into the pocket of his jacket.

“So I’ll be there at four?” Even says. “Can you make it for four?”

“Can _I_?” Isak repeats, raising his brows to tease him a bit, because Even is notoriously a bad judge of time and, thus, notoriously late. “ _I_ can. But can you?”

“I can make it, too.”

“Mm-hm.”

“I think.”

They both snort, and Isak laughs, too, and he knows that if they weren’t in public then Even would lean in and press their foreheads together before he’d kiss him, too. Still, it’s barely been more than a month since the day they woke up in Isak’s bed together with everything out in the open, and they _are_ in public, and Isak is still getting used to this, so he doesn’t.

Instead, however, as they reach his stop, he brushes his thumb over the back of Isak’s knuckles, discreetly, and gives him a smile.

“So, four it is, then,” he says.

“Mm-hm.”

“Alright. So I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah,” Isak says, as his hand slips away and he does, too, towards the now-open tram door. “See you later.”

They’re going to Even’s family’s cabin, that’s what the later is. And they’re going to be there the entire weekend. Alone. Just the two of them.

*

“Remember gloves,” Eskild says, from the doorway to Isak’s room, as Isak does a last-minute pack. “And sweaters. And those warm socks that the girls gave you.“

“Chill out,” Isak says.

“And condoms.”

Not bothering to turn around to face him, Isak just flips him off.

“It’s your first weekend away with him,” Eskild protests. “Let a guru be worried, baby Jesus.”

“Why?” Isak asks. “What are you worried about?”

“I don’t know. There could be a murderer on the loose,” Eskild says, shrugging when Isak, this time, turns around to give him a look. “There _could_. I don’t know. You’re going to be there all alone, you know.”

“Calm down,” Isak says. “You’re psyching me out now, too.”

It’s true. Well: Isak’s been psyched out for a while, actually, because Eskild is right, it is the first time they’ve been away all alone like this, for this long of a time, and although they’ve been through tests enough already, this kind of feels like a new one. _So we saved each other, and all of that’s great, but when we’re left alone and out of all that, do we actually like each other’s company?_

“Good,” Eskild says, to Isak’s comment, and Isak rolls his eyes again. “That’s my job.”

Luckily for him, the doorbell rings before he can go on, and Isak ignores his excited, raised brows in favour of heading into the hallway and holding in the button connecting him to the speaker.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hi.” It’s embarrassing how soft hearing Even’s voice makes him. “Buzz me in?”

“Or not,” Isak says. “Eskild is being sentimental, so maybe I’ll just come down.”

“You will do no such thing,” Eskild calls, from the bed of his room, that he’s now taken over like it’s his own, and judging by Even’s chuckle, on the other end of the line, it seems like Isak won’t be able to pretend like they didn't hear it. “Tell your handsome boy that I want to see him up here before you leave.”

Isak sighs. “Did you hear that?”

“Yep.”

“Okay.” Another sigh. “Well, come on up then, I guess.”

Even does, and, after receiving his kiss of greeting, Isak stands back to allow him and Eskild to talk for a while. Or, well, to allow Eskild to pester the both of them and to allow Even to be overbearing about it, until, finally, finally, they’re allowed to leave.

In the stairwell, then, as soon as Eskild’s closed the door to the flat and let them out of his sight, Even pauses them in their tracks to kiss him again, up against the cold stone wall of it, and Isak, with arms around his neck, leans into it.

“Alright,” Even says then, pulling back with a grin. “Ready?”

Isak nods.

“Yeah,” he says. “Ready.”

*

They ride up to the cabin in Even’s mother’s car, that Even’s borrowed for the occasion.

While they drive they listen to music from Even’s phone, connected to the car’s stereo, and share the snacks that Even brought and Isak places in his palm whenever he reaches out to ask for it. 

Outside it’s already gone dark because it’s winter, and since it was raining earlier the streets are glistening with it and reflecting the red and white lights of the other cars on the road.

Even drives the car like he’s used to it, good enough that he can afford to be distracted while doing it, and Isak didn’t know that he would find this hot, either, but he really, really does. He _really_ , really does, watching Even’s hands as they work the gear and the steering wheel, and watching Even’s face go soft with a smile when he reaches over to play with the hair at the back of Isak’s neck.

As soon they’re inside, Isak pushes him up against the door, and kisses him.

“Oh,” Even says, giggling a little into it, but he drops all their bags from his hands in favour of putting them on Isak’s cheeks, instead. “What is this for?”

“I don’t know, the driving?” Isak shrugs. “The tradition?”

“What tradition?”

“Us alone in a place with a bed?”

“Ah,” Even says, hands on his waist, and Isak can feel the way they now have the same goal in mind in the way that he’s gone breathless, too. “There’s a King Size one in the living room.”

“Great.”

They laugh, and then they kiss, and then they stumble their way there, breathless and eager and fumbling with each other’s clothes, and there are so many ways you can have sex, Isak’s learned, but the core of it is also always the same. Just the two of them, doing this, together.

At first he was so self-conscious about it. _This is where the sweat collects_ , he thought, when Even touched him behind his knee, or _I feel like this is meant to be more graceful_ , or _maybe I’m not really doing enough_. But he’s better, now, feels more at ease with it, in part because they’ve talked and in part because he’s thinking less; because he’s trying to just exist in it.

It’s still one of the first times he’s initiated it like this.

“So,” Even says, afterwards, grinning into the kisses that Isak is still giving him. “Driving, huh?”

“I guess so,” Isak says, and Even kisses him back.

“Alright,” he says. “That’s good to know.”

*

After they’ve been lying there for a while, holding each other and glancing around the room, they get up and put their clothes back on, giggling a little about it, before they gather their wallets and their bags and their shoes, and go grocery shopping.

They’ve done this together before, but barely. Every time they’ve done it, though, Isak’s been struck by how nice it is. There’s something so simple about it, picking out the right pasta and taking their time, because it doesn’t matter how long it takes when it’s time they spend together.

There’s something simple about being here, too, in a small store miles out of Oslo, and it’s true that Isak is still getting used to this, but they’re in a different world out here. So when Even pulls him in by the shoulders while they wait in line, Isak sneaks an arm around his waist and leans in to kiss his cheek.

“Oh,” Even says, glancing at him with a beam on his face, like he’s delighted about simply existing in the world, so Isak shrugs and leans in to kiss him on the lips, too. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Isak says, smiling back, before he leans his head on Even’s shoulder, jacket-clad and soft with it, as they keep on waiting.

When they arrive back in the cabin, they unpack together and make dinner.

Even puts on music as they do, and this is easy, too, to Isak’s surprise. While they make dinner they also make a cake, using one of those powdery mixes that Even’s apparently a big fan of, _convenience is key_ , and they can’t find a pan, but they can find a few pots, so they use one of those to cook their bacon and try to make the best of it. 

While they wait for their stuff to finish, Even embraces him from behind, hands under his t-shirt to warm them, because they’re always cold, and then sways them in time with the music.

“You know,” he says, while Isak touches his hands through the shirt. “If we met in a bar, I would have wooed you like this.”

“Really?” Isak says. “Exactly like this? Because you’re coming on quite strong.”

Even laughs, a sound of delight, and it goes straight to Isak’s lips and makes him smile, too.

“Maybe,” Even says. “But if you’re cute like me, you’re allowed to do that.”

“Are you fishing for compliments?”

“Never.”

Turning around in their grasp so they’re facing each other, Isak rolls his eyes, but then he touches him, too, fingers sneaking into the hair behind his ear, before he leans in to kiss him.

“I would have been wooed,” he says, and Even chuckles, delighted again, before he kisses Isak back.

“Great,” he says, when they pull apart, and then: “Also, can we talk about how you’re dancing with me?”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“This isn’t dancing.” It is, of course, but Isak will tease him if it’s the last thing he does. “I’m just letting you move my limbs, there’s a difference.”

“Right,” Even says. “Of course.”

“Hm.”

“I like it, though.”

“Like what?” Isak asks.

“That you're dancing with me.”

“I know.” Isak does. It’s kind of why he’s doing it. “Although I still don’t agree that I am.”

Even laughs, and Isak is so very tender for him, like he always is when he's like this, and so very happy that he's happy, too.

After he’s laughed Even kisses him, that way he has where he cups Isak’s cheeks and pulls him in, firm and quick, but Isak lifts his chin to make him do it again, slower this time, and then maybe they’re dancing and kissing, too.

When they eat they do it in bed; the big one, in the living room. Actually, they do it with the telly on, although it’s all in German, for some goddamn reason, as they sit back against the wall, halfway covered by the duvet, and lean against each other’s shoulders.

“I take everything back that I’ve ever said,” Even says, once the German movie has gone off the rails and their attempts at figuring out what it’s about have, too. “This is clearly the best movie ever made.”

“Oh, yeah?” Isak says. “Better than Baz Lurhman?”

“Definitely,” Even says. “By a long shot. Clearly, nonsensical plots are the true way to go.”

“Ah.” Isak nods. “I see. So that’s what you’ll be doing, then?”

“Exactly,” Even says. “Needs to be as absurd and difficult to follow as possible.” 

“So exactly what you’d write before you’d edit?”

”Rude,” Even says, but he’s laughing about it, because that’s the kind of thing that he does. “Now are you going to kiss me, or what?”

Isak does and then, once they’re finished with dinner, they keep kissing, kissing and kissing and kissing, and they have time, now, and privacy, too, so they take it slow; make their kisses long, and their touches teasing, and bring each other to the brink and back, a couple of desperate times; keep going until their hair is a mess and their chests are flushed and their lips are puffy and red, too; until it’s obvious what they’ve been doing from just a glance at them alone.

“We should go away more,” Even says, when they’re lying back and catching their breaths. “If we’ll always be doing this kind of thing.”

“Deal,” Isak says, and Even rolls his head to the side to look at him and smile, before he holds up his hand, palm facing the mattress, for Isak to give him a high-five. The sound it makes echoes in the room, and then they intertwine their fingers, too. “Definitely.”

They stay up long into the night.

Isak doesn’t know how they do it, really, because the week has been long, and they should be exhausted, but Even puts some music back on and fetches the cake that they made earlier, while Isak rolls up a joint for them, and then they eat, and smoke, and lie together, talking and talking and talking all night: _what are your dreams, what are you scared of, do you think it’ll be robots who kill us in the end?_

It won’t, Isak says. Actually he’s certain it’ll be diseases instead, and maybe it’s not very glamorous, but Even says that he likes his logic, _although the robot idea has made some cool movies,_ and when Isak replies, _so has the disease one_ , Even kisses him like he’s fond of him.

”Thank you for always indulging me,” he says, but Isak can’t imagine not doing that, and when he says that it earns him another kiss.

When they finally go to bed, then, much, much later, it’s because they can’t stay awake any longer. 

”I love you,” Even mumbles, after they’ve brushed their teeth, a not-big-deal into Isak’s shoulder, arm across his waist and eyes closed, but Isak’s stomach still blooms with it.

”I love you,” he says back, and feels it on his skin when Even smiles. Turning around, then, so they’re facing each other, he slots his thigh in-between Even’s, which Even, sleepily, helps him with. 

When they fall asleep, a little later, they do it in each other’s arms.

**Saturday**

When Isak wakes up, a good ten hours later, it’s with Even’s head on his chest.

He almost never gets to see this. Even, fast asleep, breathing slowly as he rests, calm expression that makes him look young, and strands of hair spilling over his forehead. Staying for a while, Isak just watches him, before he reaches down to push the hair back and out of his eyes, running his fingers through it.

Even must have been just on the edge of sleep anyway, because he’s always difficult to wake, but today he stirs quietly, like Isak is helping him awaking to the world in a way that’s gentle.

“Morning,” he mumbles, and cuddles in closer, like close to Isak is exactly where he wants to be. Isak, wanting to keep making him look as content as he does right now, shifts his hand around to scratch a little at his scalp. “Sleep well?”

“Mm-hm,” Isak says. “Did you?”

“Like a rock. Or a baby, maybe.”

“That rhymes.”

“Mm.”

Even scoots up closer, head in the dip between Isak’s shoulder and neck, now, eyes still closed, and Isak turns his head to press a kiss to his forehead.

The thing about Even is that he didn’t just make Isak feel wanted, or make Isak feel loved. He awoke something in Isak, too, a love that had been lying dormant while he was trying his best just to get on by. Awoke a tenderness that spills out of him, now, and makes him want so much to be a good friend to people, and to fix the hair behind Even’s ear and kiss his cheek, all just to tell him that he’s loved right back.

It means that he holds Even close while he can, carding a hand through his hair as his cheek stays pressed against Isak’s naked shoulder.

When they get up, they do it slowly, breakfast and tea and tired faces, indentations in their cheeks from sleeping, and then they go back to bed where they sit and eat their toast, duvet pooling around their hips and in t-shirts, now, to stay warm.

While Isak steals a sip of Even’s tea, Even rubs his cheek with the back of a knuckle, face dripping fondness all over the place, and Isak smiles into the cup about it.

“Oh, look,” Even says, a little later, after he’s been snooping around the cabin for a bit, turning around with a deck of cards in hand and a triumphant expression on his face. “Found them.”

They play the game of cards, still in the bed, with their duvets wrapped around their shoulders. Even has a terrible poker face, and Isak loves the whole world out of him, and Isak is unsurprised when he wins.

“You’re too open,” he says, when Even’s rolled them on top of the cards and is kissing his neck right where it meets his jaw, which Isak tilts his head to give him room for. “You’re too trusting, that’s why you lose.”

“What?” Even says, mock-offended, and Isak never knew he would grin like this while making room for a boy in-between his thighs. “You’re my boyfriend, and I can’t even trust you?”

“You can trust no one, baby,” Isak says. “That’s the whole point.”

“Bleak,” Even says, but lets it go to kiss Isak again, even while Isak is smiling into it.

When Even reaches his stomach with the kisses, Isak places his heels into the mattress and his palms to the wall behind him, and then he realises that he’s about to have sex in Even’s family’s cabin for the millionth time and that when Magnus, jokingly, called this weekend their sex getaway he was actually sort of right.

“What’s so funny?” Even asks, and Isak reaches down to touch his hair, but shakes his head.

“Nothing,” he says. “Magnus.”

“ _Magnus_?” Even says. “Why are you thinking of Magnus right now?”

“I’m not.” Isak giggles, and Even shoves him a little, in a playful sort of way. “I’m not. Sorry. Go on.”

“Go on?” Even kisses him, slow and hot and deep, because apparently not even making a joke can stop him from being good at this, so Isak pulls him in with a hand to his neck and lifts his hips a little higher. “You sure? Because it didn’t seem like that’s what you wanted.”

“Shut up.”

“Hm.” Pulling away, probably to tease, Even rests their foreheads together, but he reaches up to intertwine their fingers, too. “What is it now? Two months since our first time and you’re already over it?”

“God,” Isak says, and Even giggles, pressing in close so their noses kiss. “You take jokes so far.”

“You love it.”

“Sure.” Isak shakes his head, and that makes Even giggle again, and kiss him and kiss him and kiss him, on his cheeks like he does when he thinks Isak is being cute. “That’s exactly what this is. Me, loving it.”

“Where’s the lube?”

This time they laugh together.

“You know,” Isak says, while he leans away a little to grab the lube, which he hands over, and a condom, which he tears open as he keeps talking, “some day I’m going to learn how to produce lube that isn’t sticky, because this kind is fucking gross.”

“You’ve mentioned,” Even says, grinning like he’s desperately amused, as Isak hands him ring of the condom that’s lubed up, too. “Thank you.”

“Just look at this,” Isak says, holding up his hands that are moist, now. “Why does it dry sticky, it’s annoying.”

“Effective, though.”

“That’s true.”

Again, Even grins, like he’s delighted by this, and when he’s finished rolling the condom on, he leans in to kiss Isak’s cheek again, his lips, and then:

“Wipe it off on me,” he says.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I don’t mind. Do it on my shoulder. I’ll have to shower later, anyway.”

“I’ll shower with you.”

“Okay,” Even says. “You’re sweet.” And then: “Now, though, if you don’t mind, I have other and more important things to do with my mouth than talking to you.”

“Is that so?”

“Mm,” Even says, and kisses him. “It is.”

*

In the afternoon, after they’ve showered, just like they said, they go back to bed and kiss until they fall asleep, Isak on his stomach like he always is and Even sprawled over his back, like the octopus he sometimes becomes when he’s sleeping.

Once they wake up they bundle up, and then they go back to the grocery store, to get some food and some cocoa for the evening. On the way there, Even reaches out to hold Isak’s hand and Isak, feeling brave this weekend, lets him.

“You know,” he says, in the store, playing with the hair at Even’s neck while Even debates with himself between two brands of cocoa. “I was a little bit nervous about this weekend.”

“Hm?” Even says, halfway distracted, and then, seemingly catching up and turning to actually glance at him: “Nervous?”

“Not in a bad way, just…” Isak shrugs. “It’s the first time we’ve been away like this.”

Like it does sometimes, Even’s face softens. The same kind of softening it usually does before Even reaches out, thumb across his cheeks, and licks his lips before he kisses him softly, too.

“I keep forgetting that this is new to you,” he says, with that familiar squeeze of Isak’s shoulder that he gives when he says, _I forgot how young you are_ , but then: “Actually, I keep forgetting that this is new to us, but I guess that it is.”

“Yeah,” Isak says. And: “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that I’m having a great time.”

"Yeah?" Even asks, and when Isak nods, he smiles. "So am I." 

*

That night they eat dinner in bed again, after they’ve been in the kitchen together, making it, and then they bundle up in their scarfs and their coats and bring some tea with them, as they go outside.

The place is secluded, away from the city and surrounded by nature, and the light pollution is low out here, which means they can see the stars. It reminds Isak how alone they are, and how much he likes to be that with Even; to be alone with him, just the two of them.

Inside the cabin the lights are on, spilling out onto the grass in yellow squares and half-circles, and there’s music on, too; a quiet, calm tune, _Bon Iver_ , that quietens the mood and makes Isak’s breaths come out slowly.

There’s a cold in the air, the one that comes with winter, and it’s biting in Isak’s cheek and in his fingers. It’s okay, though, because Even has an arm around him, two arms around him, so they’re standing in a halfway embrace, and it feels the same way that it does to be outside a house with a party inside; private, because there are far-away signs of life coming from inside but not quite reaching them, and intimate, too, because of it.

Leaning his head on Even’s shoulder, Isak holds onto him around his waist with a loose touch, the two of them standing chest to chest. It would be a slow dance, if they moved a little, but Even just presses his lips into the curls of Isak’s hair, and breathes out a quiet sigh.

Isak doesn’t think he’s ever felt this content.

“Hey,” Even says, before they go in, wiping a thumb over his chin as he lifts it. “I love you.” And then: “How many?”

He doesn’t have to elaborate for Isak to know what he means.

“All of them,” he says, and he can tell that it matters to Even somehow; that just because he was manic that night, doesn’t mean it didn’t matter. So: “Infinite.”

“Thank you,” Even says, before he whispers, now: “This universe is pretty good, right?”

“Yes,” Isak says, nodding quietly, and can tell that that matters, too. “The best one.”

The calm mood carries into the cabin, before it carries into the bed with them, too. Even cards his hand through Isak’s hair, scratching him behind his ear as his eyes blink slowly and then blink shut, before he shifts them around so Isak is curled around his chest.

When they both fall asleep, they do it with ease.

**Sunday**

They wake up slowly the next morning, eat left-over cake as a post-breakfast, shower together, and start cleaning up. By four pm the place is clean and they’ve loaded their bags back in the car.

On the car-ride back Isak falls asleep, lulled into it by the heat of the car, the hum of it, and Even’s hand caressing his neck. When he wakes up again, outside of kollektivet, it’s already gone dark.

Outside, in front of the apartment entrance, they hug. It’s a tight one, Even’s arms encircling him as his encircle Even, too, and it’s long, and it doesn’t stop the silly lump from forming in Isak’s chest.

He’s just had the best time, is the thing. He’s been so happy, and he’s so grateful that that’s something that he gets to feel, now, and it’s just one night before they’ll see each other again, but he doesn’t want to let this moment go.

“We’ll do it again,” Even says, like somehow he can tell, and it’s one of the first statements about their future that he’s made. “Yeah? We’ll do it so much you’ll get sick of it.”

Isak laughs, a little weak, and Even pulls back to tilt his head and watch him.

“Okay,” Isak says. “Deal.”

Even tells him goodbye in the street, because he has to bring the car back to his mum's and _if I come up, you know I won't leave,_ , so when Isak opens the kollektivet front door, he does it alone.

And then not really. Because a second later, Eskild is there.

“So?” he says. “Baby Jesus comes back from the war. How was it, then?”

“It was good,” Isak says, and means it. “It was really, really good.”

**Author's Note:**

> as always i would love your thoughts and feelings and experiences and impressions, all in the comments below


End file.
